Wendigo
by The Best Guesst
Summary: Sam and Dean go after a wendigo and things happen. First fanfiction. Hurt!Sam, Hurt!Dean, Bobby being awesome, set season 1. T for blood, shameless whumpage, and sorta language. Sorry I suck at summaries
1. Chapter 1

_**Wendigo**_

 _Out in the Iowa wilderness_

"Sammy!" Dean Winchester shouted as he watched the monster catch his little brother's ankle in its long fingers and throw him through the air. The 6-foot-4 "little" brother's flight was abruptly stopped when his head connected with the trunk of a tree. Dean scrambled over the underbrush to reach Sam as he saw his brother's floppy, chocolate-brown hair start matting with freely flowing blood, but the wendigo had other plans for him. Dean felt the wendigo grab his leg and _pull_ and it was all he could do to keep his own head from cracking open. As it was, a sharp stick protruding from the ground ripped a long, shallow gash on his right bicep as he was dragged backwards by the monster. Dean kicked out at the paw that was pulling him away from his brother and managed to connect with the hairy fingers just hard enough to make the creature let go. As soon as his legs hit the ground, he stumbled to his feet and ran towards Sammy, fumbling for his flare gun as he sprinted. He heard the angry roar of the creature behind him, and just as he reached Sam, Dean felt the wendigo's long talons rip through his left side as he was flung away from his brother. His head and right side slammed into a tree at what felt like Mach 1, and he heard the ribs on his right side crack. Agony washed over him as he fell to the ground, clinging to consciousness only out of sheer determination to protect Sam.

Dean forced himself to his feet, his various injuries clamoring loudly for attention, blackness seeping in at the edges of his vision, his left torso steadily dripping blood along with the entire right side of his face. He staggered as dizziness from the collision with the tree and blood loss hit, but soon righted himself, concentrating on only one thing- protect Sammy. As he walked as fast as he could with his injuries back to Sam and the wendigo, his foot hit something hard in the underbrush. Dean peered at the object with slightly blurry eyes, ignoring the pain he caused himself by bending over to pick up the object. As his eyes cleared slightly, he realized that it was his flare gun. He grinned at his luck and hurried a little more to get to his brother before the monster could kill him.

When Dean reached the clearing where he had last seen Sam and the wendigo, he saw plenty of blood, but no sign of either of them. Panic set in for a second, raising his heart rate and speeding up his breathing, before Dean could get his emotions under control. Not that he was ever really in control of his emotions when his little brother was hurt. Not when the one who hurt his Sammy was still out there and breathing. But he kept a tight hold on his rage and panic, and looked at the scene before him with cold, emotionless eyes. He saw the small puddle of blood where Sam's head had been lying against the tree the wendigo had thrown him into, and saw that there were drag marks along the ground where it looked like the wendigo had dragged the freakishly tall man off into the woods. Dean went to follow the trail, but as soon as he turned, he was reminded of how badly hurt he himself was. He wanted to power on until he could find his brother since he knew that Sam's head was pretty banged up, if the puddle of blood was any evidence, but Dean also knew that there was no way he could take on a wendigo in this state. Hell, the blood loss and concussion were about to make him pass out on his feet. "Sonuvabitch," Dean muttered, running his hand through his spiky, crew-cut, dirty blond hair as he trudged back to his baby, his '67 Chevy Impala, with the intention of grabbing his med kit, patching himself up and getting the hell back out there to find his brother. However, before he could do more than wrap his ribs and staunch the bleeding, he sat down heavily, leaning against the car, and slipped into unconsciousness.

 **A/N Hey, this is my first fanfiction! So be kind and send me some feedback about it! Review, follow, fave, or PM!**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N Hey, I forgot to do a disclaimer in the first chapter (apparently it's needed for some reason, even though this is fanfiction) so, I don't own the characters, they belong to... whatever channel has Supernatural I guess. Idk, I just watch it online. I think it's CW... Anywho, thanks so much to the people who followed and favorited and reviewed! It really means a lot to me as a just-starting-out-writer. Any critiques are very much welcome. I'll just shut up now and let you read the next chapter (kinda short, sorry)**

 _Italics are thoughts_

 _In the Iowa wilderness_

 _It's too bright out, and those birds are too loud. Shut up, stupid birds,_ Dean thought as he started breaking the surface of consciousness. _Trying to sleep here. Sammy, go shut that bird up. Wait. Sammy. SHIT the wendigo!_ Dean sat up from his reclined position suddenly as consciousness brought back memories, but immediately regretted it as the motion brought back the pain. He let out an involuntary groan and squeezed his eyes shut as waves of pain traveled through his ravaged torso. Dean sucked in breath slowly through gritted teeth, head pounding and stomach roiling, and realized he wouldn't be able to fight the wendigo off and save Sammy in his condition. He hated it, but he was going to have to call for some help. He dug in his pocket and took out his cell phone, but the cracked screen and case indicated that his phone was well and truly broken.

Dean reached up behind himself, pointedly ignoring the protests from his ribs, and grabbed the handle of the Impala's door with his left hand, using it to drag himself up to a standing position. He stood frozen there for a few seconds, panting shallowly, as he waited for the torment in his chest to ease up. Once it became bearable again, he slid into the driver's seat of his baby. Even that small task made it clear that calling for help was the smartest course of action. (Not that Winchesters usually did smart decisions.) Dean tried to put the keys into the ignition, but realized that he couldn't tell which of the two keyholes floating in front of his eyes to put the key into. Once he figured that out, he briefly entertained the thought that driving with a concussion was _not_ a good idea, but then his thoughts strayed back to Sammy, and he decided he could risk it. Dean put the car in drive and slowly pulled away from the woods.

 **Again, sorry about the shortness. It just felt like it ended there. I have this mostly planned out (the ending's giving me lots of trouble) so expect at least an update every day or so, unless I forget.**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N Is it customary to put the disclaimer up on each chapter? Hmmmm... Just in case, I don't own these guys, if I did, why would I bother to write fanfictions? Thanks to everyone who gave a review, fave or follow, I love you all. Now, get on with it!**

 _At the Boulders Inn & Suites motel_

Dean managed to get the car all the way to the motel without crashing and considered it a huge accomplishment. Somehow, he managed to get through the door of his room and to the phone next to the beds. He sat down heavily as he picked up the receiver and started to dial Bobby's number. He huffed out a breath as he waited for his friend to pick up the phone.

"Singer Salvage, what do you need?" a gruff voice issued from the phone after a few rings.

"Bobby," Dean breathed into the receiver, relieved that Bobby picked up.

"Dean? Boy, what's wrong? Who's hurt?" Bobby immediately demanded when he heard Dean's tone of voice. He knew something was wrong even from the fact that Dean was calling him at all. "Where's Sam? Is he hurt?"

Dean's eyes got a little misty as he listened to the real concern in Bobby's voice. Dean had looked up to that man as a father for many years, and since now his real father was missing, it was good to hear a familiar voice. "Bobby, that's why I'm calling. You know that wendigo case up in Milford, Iowa? Well, Sam and I took that case, and we ganked it pretty easily, but it turns out there were two. Now Sammy's been taken and I'm in no shape to grapple with a wendigo. I'd more likely be killed than help Sam, and then I wouldn't be able to do anything to protect my little brother." Dean swallowed both saliva and his pride before speaking the next sentence. "I need backup, Bobby."

Bobby was silent for a few seconds. Dean must have been hurt bad to even think about calling for help. There was no way in hell Bobby could ignore the boys he thought of as sons, not if they were hurt and he could help. "I'll be there in an hour and a half, two hours tops. Just sit tight. What motel are you at?"

"I'm at the Boulders Inn & Suites, just off of Rt. 71. Thank you, Bobby. I don't know-"

Bobby cut Dean off. "No need to thank me, ya idjit. I'm just doing a favor for my boys. Now sit tight, and don't injure yourself further. Maybe catch a few z's while you're at it, if you can. I'll be there soon." Bobby doubted that Dean would be able to rest with his brother missing, but it couldn't hurt to ask. He hung up the phone and started getting ready for the hunt, packing plenty of flare guns and silver tipped bullets for the shotguns. The silver on the bullets would only hurt the wendigo a little, but the fire from the flare gun would be fatal to it. Wendigos were nasty creatures, once human, but no longer. They were created from men who would go crazy from hunger in a long winter and resort to cannibalism to stay alive. Hundreds of years later, they still craved human flesh to the exclusion of all else. The only reason more people aren't dead is because wendigos would go into hibernation for a couple hundred years at a time. They usually went solo, but this time seemed to be an exception. Gotta be prepared.

 **A/N Hoo boy, doesn't this look likes it's getting somewhere now. R and R, F and F, all those other things people put down in the post-chapter authors note. Sorry again for the shortness, but it felt like it stopped there.**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N Now for a bit of Bobby. I've been writing his name enough times that it doesn't look right anymore... Oh well. Anywho, thanks so much to everyone who reviewed, followed, faved, or even just read it! You are all awesome! Hope this lives up to your standards.**

While Bobby was gathering supplies for the hunt, Dean tried to patch himself up a bit better. He took off his makeshift bandage and winced when he saw the red gashes. They were swollen and inflamed, leaking blood and pus in places. Dean hissed as he prodded at the wounds. They were definitely infected. He supposed that wendigo claws were anything but sanitary, and he should have remembered to sterilize the gashes, but he had been too focused on Sammy.

Dean inspected the lacerations more thoroughly and realized that they needed stitches. The side was always an awkward place for him to stitch himself up, and with a concussion, he doubted it would be any easier. His eyesight was still slightly blurry and the headache certainly didn't help his concentration. Dean decided that he would be better off if he just smeared antibacterial cream on the wounds. Maybe he would get Bobby to help… Probably not. He rebandaged his side with new gauze and medical tape. He checked the time and saw that nearly an hour and a half had passed since he started his ministrations. Dean decided that it was time to take a break and wait for Bobby to show up.

((((((Just a little line break, because I haven't figured out how to actually make one yet))))))

Dean was waiting impatiently at the doorway of the motel room when Bobby pulled up. The young Winchester was leaning heavily against the doorframe, and was obviously in pain, though a casual observer might not be able to see the signs. The way he was slightly hunched, his arm supporting his ribs, made it clear to Bobby that Dean was in pain just standing. Dean opened his mouth to say something, presumably some form of "let's get going," but Bobby was having none of that. "Shut that mouth, boy, and git back inside. You need some serious patchin' up, and you'll be useless if you go out there like this. Less than useless, 'cause I'd have to protect your sorry hide. Now go sit down nice and quiet on the bed and wait for me to get my med kit."

Dean wanted to object to that as a waste of time, but he knew Bobby was right. If he went out how he was, he'd only be a liability, and there was no way he was going to let Bobby go alone to rescue _his_ little brother. As soon as Bobby turned away, Dean detached himself from the doorway and stumbled to the bed. This motion only highlighted his need for medical assistance. He couldn't even walk in a straight line. Just as he sat heavily onto the bed with a small hiss of pain, Bobby came in, carrying the duffel with his medical supplies. Bobby noticed the slight grimace on the younger hunter's face, but didn't comment as he started laying out the supplies he needed to patch Dean up.

Bobby knew that Dean's injuries must be pretty bad to call for help, but it didn't prepare him for the sight under his shirt. Once the bandages were lifted, there were four long, deep, infected claw marks, one shallower graze, and a mass of bruising where Dean's chest should be. Bobby couldn't breathe for a few seconds, imagining the pain his boy must be going through. Then he snapped to work. He quickly and efficiently sterilized the gashes, trying his best to ignore the winces, whimpers and groans coming from his patient. By the time he got the needle and gut out, Dean's eyes were scrunched closed and there was a sheen of sweat on his face. "Sorry, boy, I don't have any numbing agents, so this is gonna hurt like hell," Bobby whispered. Dean simply nodded at him to continue, not even opening up his eyes. The first stitch forced a whuff of air from Dean's lungs, but he was perfectly still and silent for all the rest. After the stitches were done, Bobby took a long roll of bandages and, after setting the broken bones, started wrapping Dean's ribs, covering the wounds at the same time. Once all the ministrations were done, Dean popped a couple of painkillers, chasing them down with a shot of whiskey from Bobby's hip flask.

 **A/N I'm not sure if I captured Bobby correctly... Any and all feedback is really appreciated! Review or send me a PM to tell me what you think!**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N Thank you to everyone who reviewed, followed, favorited, and PM'ed! You are all the greatest! Thanks to people who just read, too. You are only slightly less awesome. Please send feedback! Alrighty then, enough of my prattling! On with the story!**

Dean popped a couple of painkillers, chasing them down with a shot of whiskey from Bobby's hip flask.

"Thanks, Bobby. Now, we gotta start looking for Sammy," Dean said as he started getting up, only to fall back down on the bed with a groan.

Bobby looked sharply at Dean. "I think that might be a sign that you're not ready to be out on the field just yet, boy. Stay here, get some shut eye, and I'll go out to look for Sammy, maybe ask around to see what's been going on."

Dean started to protest, but as Bobby shifted him to a more comfortable position, he felt his consciousness slipping away and surrendered himself to sleep. Bobby quietly let himself out to start his search.

((((((Line Break))))))

 _In the Iowa wilderness_

Sam knew that something was wrong, even before he regained full consciousness. He couldn't feel any hard surface. His arms and wrists hurt, along with his left ankle, but it was his shoulders and head that had agony screaming through his entire body. In his confused state, he was unable to figure out why things hurt, he just knew that they did and that he wanted it to stop. So he did what he always did when he was hurt and confused.

"Dean!" he shouted, or at least, he tried to shout. It came out as more of a whimper or moan. He started to panic as he realized he couldn't draw in a full breath. He tried calling for his brother again, but with the same results. He started to thrash, but his legs refused to move much and it just made his arms and shoulders hurt worse. The added agony and subsequent adrenaline helped wake him from his stupor even further. He stopped thrashing, but his momentum made him keep swaying, further aggravating his shoulders. His concussion-addled brain took a few seconds to realize why. He was suspended by a thin rope around his wrists, tied to a rusty metal bar sticking out of the wall near the ceiling. His ankles were also tied up with rope, rendering them useless.

As he became more aware, he realized that he wasn't alone. There were others trussed up just like he was, and none of them seemed conscious. Once his eyesight stopped doubling, Sam was able to make out about ten other still forms hanging by their wrists. As he continued to look around himself, he realized that he wasn't in a room. The craggy rocks all around and the damp air revealed that he was in a cave.

Sam's thoughts started to come through clearer as he hung there. The air, which was moist and cold, was waking him up like a cold shower. He realized that he should try to escape and help the other victims of the wendigo, not to mention make sure Dean made it out alright. He started swinging back and forth, rubbing his bonds against the rusted pipe, hoping to create enough friction to cut through the rope. The motion didn't help the pain in his head or shoulders, but he just gritted his teeth and continued on despite it. After a few minutes of this, he was tiring quickly, the tightness in his chest due to his entire body weight hanging from his arms making it difficult to get enough oxygen in his lungs. Just then, he felt a slight slackening on his wrists and redoubled his efforts to get free before the wendigo came back. Another minute of swinging and pain passed, and the rope snapped. Sam fell to the floor in a jumble, ankle flaring up in pain, his long limbs tangling and aggravating his various agonies.

 **A/N I don't know if you can create enough friction to cut a rope just with the rusty pipe, but bear in mind that all of Sam's considerable weight is pulling on it. Also, this is a story and it has no need for pesky facts or physics. Anywho, review! Please! Or PM me, that's fine too. I love all the feedback I have been getting! Hopefully it's making me into a better writer... So, review, follow, fave, PM!**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N Oops, almost forgot to post today, what with the turmoil happening in the grand US of A. Honestly, I'm so done with politics. So, to forget about all that, get reading!**

Sam fell to the floor in a jumble, ankle flaring up in pain, his long limbs tangling and aggravating his various agonies.

When the pain became bearable, Sam managed to straighten out enough to untie his ankles and rub feeling back into his arms and legs. His ankle looked swollen, probably sprained, but definitely not broken. He picked himself off the floor, keeping the weight off of his ankle, and felt in his pockets for his penknife. Luckily, though wendigos retained their human intelligence, not all humans are intelligent. The one this wendigo was created from must not have done much thinking, because Sam still had his knife in his pocket.

After he gathered his strength, Sam limped over to the other still forms and made quick work of their bonds. He tried to shake them awake, with varying degrees of success. There were twelve prisoners of the wendigo, not including Sam, and only five of them woke up with Sam's prodding. Three of the ones that hadn't woken up had what looked like bite marks on their shoulders and arms and there was definitely plenty of blood on their clothing and staining the ground. The other four were already dead, limbs torn off and blood drained until the body was dry. Sam left those alone. The five conscious people looked faintly nauseous at the dead bodies, but they were still enough in shock from being captured themselves that no one had a full blown panic attack. Sam looked over his companions. There were three women and five men left alive, and of those, two of the women and three of the men were awake. _Not much to work with,_ Sam thought, _but I can make this work._

He cleared his throat to get their attention. When he had it, he said, "My name is Sam. Can you tell me your names?"

Five pairs of slightly glazed eyes stared at him for a moment, until one woman broke the silence. "Maddy. My name is Madeline Sherman."

Sam nodded. She was the most recent disappearance. He looked over at the other four and they seemed to shake off the haziness in their heads.

"Jeff McKay."

"David Hassen"

"Jenny Green."

"Alexander Kelsey, but my friends call me Alex."

Sam nodded after each name, remembering them from the disappearances listed in the newspapers. "Ok, now, does anyone know how to get out of here?" Sam asked as he looked around, taking in the multiple tunnels leading off. Everyone shook their heads. "Okay, then. Let's start heading down this way and I will mark the walls. Can you carry the unconscious ones?" Sam directed the question to Maddy, David and Alex, who seemed to be in better shape than the other two. They nodded and picked up the unconscious people over their shoulders and followed a limping Sam down the tunnel.

((((((Line Break))))))

 _In the town of Milford, Iowa_

Bobby was tired. He had been walking all day, talking with everyone who might know something about the disappearances, but he didn't learn much that he didn't already know. The only good thing he got out of the day was that he had a general idea of where he might find the cave where the wendigo could be hiding. Apparently, there was a lake nearby, and one side of the lake led into some bluffs that had many twisting tunnels and caves. Wendigos usually sought out caves to keep their victims fresh, and these were the closest ones. After talking to one last person, Bobby headed back to the motel to get Dean and tell him the new information.

 **A/N Alrighty then, this is getting interesting! Sam to the rescue! And Bobby's getting some where. Maybe next chapter, Dean will get to be the protective older brother we know and love. Review, Fave, Follow, and PM! Give me some feedback! Or just say hi!**


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N Geez, I need to do this earlier in the day. I keep almost forgetting. Well, get on with it!**

 _At the Boulders Inn & Suites motel_

Dean woke up disoriented. "Sammy? Sammy!" he shouted as he struggled to get up, only to lie back down with a long groan of pain. Everything was coming back to him- the wendigo, the hunt, Sam, his injuries, Bobby. Dean started to get back up, more carefully this time, aware of his lacerations and wrapped ribs, and once he was upright, he tried standing. His ribs and stitches protested, but Dean ignored them in favor of being vertical. Once on his feet, he swayed slightly, but the dizziness faded quickly. As he looked around, he realized that his eyesight was no longer blurry. The sleep must have helped his concussion.

He stumbled to the bathroom, relieved himself with only minor difficulty, and washed up, careful not to get any water on his bandages. Once he felt clean enough, he raided the kitchen. He hadn't eaten anything for nearly a full day, and he was ravenous. Only after he started devouring a simple meal of grilled cheese and canned tomato soup did he wonder about where Bobby was. It was getting late in the day, and Bobby wouldn't stay out after dark if he could help it. Just then, the door of the motel room opened and Dean was immediately on his feet, knocking a chair over in the process, eyes scanning the room for a weapon.

"Calm down, boy. It's just me," Bobby's voice floated into the kitchen. Dean relaxed at the sound, and sat back down heavily in a different chair, leaving the other chair on the floor. He was too tired out by his injuries to pick it up. The door thudded shut, and then Dean could hear familiar footsteps thudding across the bedroom to the kitchen. Bobby walked in to see an exhausted Dean, an upturned chair, and a slowly cooling half-eaten dinner. Bobby picked up and sat himself down in it. Dean looked at him expectantly, waiting for news about his brother's whereabouts. Bobby blew out a long breath. Part of him didn't want to tell Dean where to find Sam, because Dean was in no shape to go confronting a wendigo, but he figured Dean needed some good news.

"I talked with some people 'round the town, and found out that there are some caves close by, near the lake. Wendigos tend to store their victims in caves until they... get hungry." Bobby swallowed audibly as he said that. Dean, for his part, managed to keep his flinch to a minimum, but he was extremely worried for his little brother.

"We gotta find him soon, Bobby. He… He's just…" Dean trailed off. Bobby nodded, showing his understanding.

"We'll find him, Dean. Just be patient and get your strength up, so you can gank that sonuvabitch. You're no use to Sam as you are, or dead. We'll head out in the morning to find the caves and that wendigo," Bobby reassured. "Just sleep now."

Dean grudgingly complied, only because he knew Bobby was right. He swung himself down onto the bed without bothering to change his clothes, grunting as he stretched some stitches and jostled his sore ribs. He fell asleep with the thought of finding Sam at the forefront of his mind.

 **A/N Dun dun DUUUUUUN! No Sammy today. Don't worry, you'll see more Sammy too. Now, I gotta get to sleep, but not before I say REVIEW! OR PM! JUST SAY HI IF YOU WANT, BUT FEEDBACK IS ALWAYS GOOD! Really, I appreciate both praise and criticism.**


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N There seem to be some worries about the well-being of our boys. Just to let you all know, I do not write death fics. To quote the Doctor, "Just this once, everybody lives!" However, there will be shameless whump on them. Anywho, here's what Sam is up to.**

 _In the Iowa wilderness in a cave_

Sam was getting annoyed. They had been wandering around in the caves for hours, and they were no closer to getting out than they were originally. They somehow kept getting turned around and ending back in the first cavern. At least he had been able to explain a bit of what was happening. By this time, most of the tunnels had been explored. There were just three left, but Sam could tell his companions were getting weary, not to mention his ankle wasn't exactly feeling great. Maddy broke the silence that had been brewing for the past hour or so.

"Can… Can we take a break? Ummm… This girl is getting pretty heavy."

Sam could have smacked himself. He'd been so preoccupied with getting out that he forgot about the people stuck with him. "Sure. Uh, let's try to wake these people up, and take a few minutes. I don't know what time it is…"

"I've got a watch," Alex spoke up. "It's now 1:27 AM. I think we should get some sleep."

Everyone nodded at that, so Maddy, David, and Alex all put down their loads, resting them against the tunnel wall. There was no water or food in the caves, so everyone had to deal with rumbling stomachs and parched throats and mouths. One of the unconscious men woke up a few minutes after they had stopped, and looked around in confusion. Sam quickly hobbled over to him, ready to calm him down in case he had a panic attack.

"Where… Where am I?" the man asked with wide eyes, his breathing already starting to speed up.

"Shhh, we are getting out of here. The monster won't be able to hurt you anymore. Calm down," Sam whispered, trying to calm the man down. "What is your name?"

The man looked up at Sam, his pupils dilated, his face almost slack in fear. Then he seemed to shake himself off. "My name is Eric Randall. What happened? Wh-Where is the monster?" He looked around in panic.

Sam rubbed Eric's back in a circular motion to calm him, just like he used to do for Dean when his big brother got nightmares about a hunt. Dean. Sam's eyes welled up with unshed tears as he thought about how worried Dean must be. They'd been separated for nearly a full day, and Sam couldn't wait to get back to his brother. He blinked rapidly, getting rid of the salty liquid before it had a chance to wet his cheeks. Clearing his throat, he said, "The monster is called a wendigo. I don't know where it is, but we are trying to get away before it comes back. However, it's getting late, and everyone is tired, so we are taking a break. Don't worry. We'll get out of here. You'll see." Sam felt Eric relax slightly at his words and let out a sigh. Then Eric fell back asleep, and the entire group agreed to spend the rest of the night in the tunnel. They were all exhausted anyways. Sam decided to keep watch until he was about to fall asleep, then he would wake up one of the others, probably Jenny or Jeff, since they hadn't been carrying people around all day. Everyone else quickly slipped into sleep, leaving Sam alone with his thoughts.

 **A/N I need to get these out earlier... But college has me so busy, I have 2 large projects due the Monday before Thanksgiving, one due right after Thanksgiving, and one that needs to be revised before Thanksgiving. Sooooo, these updates happen right before I go to bed. Which also should happen earlier. But enough about me. Review, Follow, Fave, PM, say hi! Speaking of, HI Rimeko and Tindra9090!**


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N Oh my gosh I'm so sorry for not updating yesterday. My little sister came to visit and spent the whole day with me, so I had no time to update. But anyways, here's the next chapter. Enjoy!**

 _At the Boulders Inn and Suites Motel_

Dean's alarm blared in his ear, startling him out of his sleep. He swung his arm around, slamming his hand down on the clock, hoping that he would hit the correct button to shut off the annoying beeping. After a few smashes, the clock shut up, and Dean ran a tired hand along his face. His sleep had been far from restful. He had been plagued by nightmares of Sam and the wendigo.

Dean tried to leap out of bed, but the sudden motion quickly reminded him of all of his injuries. He froze until the waves of agony subsided to a throbbing ache. He sighed heavily. This pain thing was getting old quickly. He needed to find Sammy, then he could rest and recover. Dean heard Bobby stirring into wakefulness on the other bed and smiled. Finally, they would be going after Sam. Straightening his clothes out, Dean stumbled to the bathroom. After he freshened up, Bobby had his turn as Dean ate a small breakfast of grilled cheese. When Bobby came back out, they climbed into their respective cars, Bobby his old pickup truck and Dean in his Impala, and drove in the direction of the lake with its caves.

((((((Line Break))))))

Sam startled awake. He didn't even remember falling asleep. He looked around, noticing everyone else starting to wake up except for Jenny, who had been on watch and was already awake. Sam blinked hard to try to get rid of the heaviness in the lids, with limited success. He wondered how long he had been out and started to get the time from Alex again, but a sound stopped him from uttering a syllable. A grunting noise, followed by claws on stone, which could only be from the wendigo.

Everyone was awake, even the ones who had been unconscious, but not everyone comprehended the situation. Eric was loud in his yawning, and the noises from the wendigo suddenly ceased. Sam looked around at everyone, his wide-open and terror-filled eyes met with the more or less blank stares of his companions. They may not have gotten what was going on, but they understood that Sam wanted them to be silent.

They all looked around with fearful eyes, listening intently for any sign of the monster. When Sam finally heard the noises again, they seemed to be farther off. He relaxed slightly, but he wouldn't put his guard down now or any time before they were out of the cave. The others noticed his change in stance, but they stayed silent, not completely knowing what was going on. Sam signaled them to pick up their stuff and follow him farther down the tunnel. They complied as quietly as possible, thankful that they didn't have much to do.

Sam's limp was more pronounced and he thought that all the walking the day before might have made the sprain worse. It certainly hurt worse than the day before, throbbing with every heartbeat, but Sam had to power through to get back to his brother. Eric and the other two who had been unconscious were still too weak to walk far, and Jenny was falling asleep on her feet. They all had to be helped by the other four. Sam was on his own during his painful walk down the tunnel. He really wanted to wrap his ankle, but the wendigo sounded a bit closer and they had no time to spare.

He hobbled down the path, trying his best to not lean against wall so as to not leave an easy path for the wendigo to follow. The group heard an inhuman roar echo down the tunnels and they had to choke down the screams of terror that would lead the monster straight to them. The adrenaline that flooded them fueled their rush onwards, keeping them stumbling forward. The pace kept Sam wincing with every step, wishing more and more that he could lean on something, but wendigos had superior senses, and that included the sense of smell. So he pushed onwards.

It had been about fifteen minutes since the wendigo let out the terrible roar when they saw the first bit of light in front of them. They all sagged slightly in relief at the sight. The sound of claws on stone behind them made them stiffen back up and try to move faster. Sam spun around at the sound and let the others pass him towards the outside. He continued limping backwards, but he knew that he wouldn't have a chance of reaching the mouth of the cave before the wendigo got him. Not only that, but even if he did, the wendigo would just hunt everyone down. The wendigo might just capture Sam, instead of killing him and running after the others. If he could just distract the wendigo long enough to let the others get away, he would be happy that he saved those poor people. Even if the wendigo did just run after the people, maybe one of them could get away and find Dean to come finish the job.

As Sam was thinking this, the wendigo was getting steadily closer. The slow click of the claws was getting louder and Sam could almost hear the heavy breathing of the creature as he scrambled backwards down the tunnel, ankle protesting every step. Then the wendigo stepped into the dim light coming from the cave's opening and Sam could see it in all its pale, twisted glory. The long fingers, tipped with razor sharp serrated claws, were far too long to belong to a human. Though it stood on two feet, the feet and ankles were shaped wrong, so that it seemed to always stand on the balls of its feet, balancing on its claws. The elongated head was topped with shaggy, tangled brown hair, and the face was set in a feral grimace, distorting the once-human features into something distinctly inhuman. Its pale skin was so thin Sam could see the veins tracing patterns beneath it. Its eyes glowed red in the semi-darkness and traced Sam's movements as he tried to get more distance between the two of them. _This is going to be tricky_.

 **A/N Things are certainly picking up now! Will Dean and Bobby be able to get to Sam and the others before it's too late? Will Sam be able to hold his own? Will I stop asking rhetorical questions that you already know? Tune in next time on Wendigo! Review, PM, Fave, Follow, say hi! Luv y'all!**


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N Sorry for the late update but I never have time anymore. With 3 essays, 2 projects and a test all happening before Thanksgiving, I'm dead. I think that next chapter will be the last. I might write an epilogue eventually, but it wouldn't be for a while. Anywho, here's the latest bit of the story. I don't like this bit, but I don't know why I don't like it, so feedback on this would be very appreciated. On that note, enjoy!**

Dean hated hiking with a passion. He hated it even more when he was hiking with broken ribs and stitches in his side. Bobby was just a few yards to the side and behind him, and both had their flare guns at the ready.

As soon as there was a rustling, crashing sound, both hunters trained their guns in that direction and waited for a clear shot on the wendigo. But what emerged from the foliage was no monster.

A small group of people were stumbling over themselves in a rush, looking over their shoulders as though someone, or something, were chasing them. Dean looked closer and saw that three were covered in blood and being supported by their friends, and one looked nearly comatose being dragged along by another person.

Dean put up his gun but didn't lower his guard. The people were running away from the direction of the caves, so chances were they were running from the wendigo. Sam must have gotten them out, but… "Where's Sam?"

The people looked at him, then each other, with surprise and recognition. They obviously knew who Dean was talking about. He tried again. "Where. Is. Sam?"

One of the women stepped forwards. "Who are you? How do you know Sam?" she asked.

Dean sighed and started to run a hand through his hair until it stretched his torso enough that the pain made him stop. "Look, lady, Sammy is my little brother. I know he was captured by the… He was captured. I need to know where he is so I can get that sonuvabitch that took him. Now, please, tell me where he is." Dean let a small bit of his considerable desperation tinge his plea. It seemed to have worked as the group all looked at each other and the woman nodded.

"I'll take you back there-" Dean opened his mouth to protest, but she silenced them with a look. " _I_ will take you back there because I have a score to settle with that… thing. I'm Maddy, by the way."

"Dean. And this is Bobby, my uncle," Dean said, jerking his head towards the grizzled hunter. "We're hunters."

"Oh, like Sam. He said he hunted supernatural creatures, like the one that took us. It's okay, we know about the supernatural being real and all that jazz, including the fact that it was a wendigo who took us. We know you're not crazy," Maddy reassured him.

"Well I wouldn't say not crazy," Dean said with a smirk. "But it's good that you know what we are dealing with. Bobby, do you have any spare flare guns for Maddy? If she's gonna lead us there, I don't want her going in helpless." Looking back at Maddy, he asked her, "Can you handle a flare gun?"

Maddy raised a single eyebrow at Dean. "I grew up on a farm in the middle of nowhere. I know my way around guns."

"Good. Now we gotta hurry. Sammy's in trouble." Dean started running in the direction of the caves, ignoring his aching ribs, Bobby and Maddy close on his heels.

"Um… Bobby, was it?" Maddy asked, slightly out of breath.

Bobby nodded.

"Do you have any water? I haven't had much to drink."

"Sure thing, sweetheart," Bobby answered, pulling out a water bottle. Maddy gulped down the contents greedily, nearly choking on it as she kept running.

"Easy there, girl. Ya gotta stay in one piece. Dean's takin' a shining to ya, and that doesn't happen too often."

Maddy smiled at that, getting her breathing under control. She handed back the water to Bobby and picked up speed to run even with Dean as they approached the caves. She looked around quickly, trying to remember which cave they had come out of. She saw a familiar twisted tree and pointed it out to Dean, showing him the way to the tunnel.

As they came closer, they heard a loud yell of pain. Dean's face drained of all color and he picked up speed as though he had held back before. Flare guns at the ready, all three of them charged into the tunnel to help Sam.

 **A/N Alright! Dean is finally gonna meet up with Sam! Next chapter will be the last! Endings suck! It might not be out for a couple days because I know I'm gonna forget about this while I write my essays. REVIEW FAVE FOLLOW PM SAY HI! Maybe that'll remind me. Luv you all!**


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N Sorry about getting this out late, but with essays and college and packing up to go to my grandpa's for Thanksgiving, I had no time at all. But hey, it's out now! So be happy!**

 **Quick shoutout to my reviewers- LilQueen101, Kathy (guest), Tindra9090 (thank you so much for all your reviews!), Elamina777, Rimeko (also a big reviewer, thanks!), Guest, and MarbleWolf. Without you guys, I might have stopped posting. And a HUGE shoutout to AlphaWolfOfRed67 for your encouragement, and last but certainly not least, my biggest contributor, Zagzagel, who gave me tons of feedback to help me edit my story. I'm super thankful for your help.**

 **Anywho, I hate endings. I literally ran out of ideas and despite my efforts to clean it up, it still sucks, in my humble opinion.**

 **This chapter is all whump. Like, ALL whump.**

Flare guns at the ready, all three of them charged into the tunnel to help Sam.

Bobby fired a flare at the ground to give them light to see. When the light reached Sam, they all pulled up short, shocked at the scene. The wendigo had Sam in a tight grip, jaws clamped on his shoulder. Sam's face was screwed up in pain and he was whimpering softly as the wendigo drained him. Blood was gushing from the wound, and though the wendigo was lapping up much of it, an alarming amount was on Sam's clothing. Not only that, but there were multiple claw marks on his shirt and legs, all of them stained red.

Dean's mind went blank. The wendigo had crossed the line. It had hurt his Sammy, the person Dean had sworn to protect since he was four years old. Letting out a wordless cry, Dean charged the wendigo and punched it in the face before anyone could react. That had the effect of making the wendigo let go of Sam, and the man crumpled to the ground.

Bobby and Maddy rushed over to help Sam as Dean continued to engage the wendigo. Bobby took off his shirt to staunch the bleeding in Sam's shoulder, and Maddy cut strips off of the bottom of her own shirt and pants to bandage up some of the more serious claw wounds, each of them apologizing profusely when their ministrations caused Sam to grunt or cry out in pain. Soon, they had his bleeding down to a more manageable level, but Sam had already lost a lot of blood, and they knew that if they didn't get him to a hospital soon, it was likely that he wouldn't live.

Suddenly, Dean gave a shout. Bobby and Maddy spun towards him just in time to see the wendigo grab Dean by his left wrist and slam him against the roof and walls of the tunnel. It let go and Dean slumped down, bleeding from his back, head and side.

Bobby quickly cursed himself for forgetting about Dean's fight and fumbled for his flare gun. Before he could get it out, the wendigo turned to him and charged. Bobby was sure he was a goner, but the wendigo suddenly burst into flames right as the claws were reaching for his neck. Maddy stood right behind it, flare gun smoking. Bobby was stuck on the spot, shock clear on his face, but soon shook himself free of his paralyzed state.

He ran to Dean and knelt beside his head, fearful of what he might see. Bobby placed his fingers on Dean's neck and held his breath, searching for a pulse he was afraid he wouldn't find. He let out the breath he was holding when he felt the slight fluttering beneath his fingertips and sat back on his heels. "Oh thank God. I thought I lost you, boy," the grizzled hunter whispered through a sad smile, his voice hitching a couple of times.

After confirming that Dean was alive, Bobby and Maddy cut away his shirt, revealing his battered torso. The broken ribs looked as though they had worsened, and almost all of the stitches had popped out, letting the old claw marks ooze. There were two new claw marks marring his abdomen and a few more on his forearms.

The sight of Dean so battered had both of them close to tears, but they worked quickly and efficiently to bandage him up, using pieces of his own shirt and pants as well as Sam's. When they gingerly turned him onto his side without jostling his broken ribs, they found that he had been lying in a pool of his own blood from his back and his head. His back was a mess of scratches and deep cuts, as well as quickly-forming bruises.

The scratches had already stopped bleeding, but the deep cuts were pouring out a seemingly endless supply of blood. However, both Bobby and Maddy knew that the blood was far from endless. Dean wouldn't be able to lose too much more without being in serious trouble. The two of them used the rest of the clothing trying to staunch the bleeding and there was still the problem of Dean's head wound. It had stopped bleeding, but they were pretty sure he would have at least another concussion.

They were just wondering how they would get the two young hunters out of the tunnel when they heard noises at the mouth of the cave. Bobby and Maddy exchanged glances that said _There can't be another one can there? No probably not, but just to make sure let's keep our guns out._ Then they heard distinctly human voices and glanced at each other again. These said _Humans? It must be those others we left in the woods. Why would they come back here?_ They got their answers soon enough as the motley group stumbled in.

One of the bloodstained men stepped forwards and said, "We are here to help in any way that we can. Even if it is just taking care of the men who saved us. We would really like to help..." He trailed off in the face of Bobby's glare. Bobby took a small flask from his hip and opened it, looking like he was going to take a drink, when he suddenly splashed the man. The man was surprised, but nothing out of the ordinary happened. Bobby grunted, apparently satisfied. He proceeded to do the same to everyone else and refused to answer any questions about it until he was done splashing everyone, including Maddy and himself.

"Well, now that I know there are no demons in any of us, let's get these idjits to the hospital," Bobby commanded. "Be careful with them. These boys are my life," he added softly. Maddy patted his shoulder as they watched the two hunters get picked up and carried to the car to be driven to the hospital.

 **A/N That's all folks! This is the end. I could possibly write an epilogue at some undetermined later date, but honestly, I have no idea when I will ever have time again. However, if there are any requests that get my creative juices flowing, I might be motivated to write a bit on weekends.**

 **Anywho, thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Feedback is always welcome. Even if you hate everything, don't hesitate to tell me. My ego is too big for anything you say to so much as chip it. I crave reviews, anything to let me know you read it and liked it. Even if you just write Kudos, or Hi, I'd be happy. SO REVIEW, PM, FAVE!**


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